


A cup for a cut

by Holycowbrowniekitty



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Adults, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holycowbrowniekitty/pseuds/Holycowbrowniekitty
Summary: Ryou gets a visit at work by his admirer.





	A cup for a cut

Ryou peeked up from his phone when  the shop’s door swung open, activating the oh so annoying jingle. If he sunk back in his chair, he would barely be visible from outside, but alas, it was too late, and the latté was dropped before his nose by the youth.

“I’m on my break,” Ryou said, removing the lid and observing the contents. Seemed safe.

“Me too,” Shudo winked, leaning against the window, smudging it with his dirty apron.  

“Cool.”

Ryou took a sip, eyes not breaking away from his screen. He felt Shudo’s antsy movements, his fidgeting and even worse, his presence.

“So, Ryou.”

And there he started again. It must’ve been the fifth time that month, yet there was no sign he would end his visits. At first it was welcome, but it aggravated him more as time passed.

“When do you finish today?” Shudo continued, taking the lack of reaction as an invitation to initiate his advances. The barista had been stopping by the past month, under pretense of smuggling faulty orders away from the trash bin.

“Never,” Ryou replied. Yanagisawa had bought Atsushi a cute cat cushion. How gross.

“Oh,” Shudo  mumbled, preoccupied with his drink. “What about Sunday?”

“Work.”

Ryou had tried to wish the man away many times, stabbing him in the back with his imaginary scissors, yet he kept returning, and he couldn’t really send him away, because those faulty drinks satisfied his customer base. And his manager.  At least Shudo didn’t seem to mind the cold shoulder he was given against the will of his patrons.

“Can I make an appointment with you then?”

“Appointment?” Ryou looked up, scrunching his eyes.

“You,” he pointed, “cut and dye my hair?”

Ryou sighed. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking of something real, cool and punky,” Shudo said with a big smile.

Ryou could already imagine the bicolored streaks. “Fine, Sunday.”


End file.
